


Green rings and red things

by siren_of_the_ocean



Series: Tim Drake AU's [36]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: BAMF Tim Drake, Gen, Green Lantern Kyle Rayner, Green Lantern Tim Drake, Hurt Tim Drake, Swearing, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is a Green lantern, Tim Drake-centric, t for language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siren_of_the_ocean/pseuds/siren_of_the_ocean
Summary: PainThat's what Tim feels when he comes to. All consuming pain.His abdomen feels like it's on fire. His head feels like someone is taking an ice pick to it. He can feel his heartbeat in his eyes."You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern corps"
Relationships: Tim Drake & John Stewart, Tim Drake & Kilowog (DCU) - Relationship, Tim Drake & Kyle Rayner
Series: Tim Drake AU's [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853161
Comments: 115
Kudos: 308





	1. "In brightest day, in blackest night-"

**Author's Note:**

> Disclosure: I haven't read many Green Lantern stories and certainly not all of them. I read Blackest night and decided to write this, so if I make flaws with the characterizations or way that the Corps works, please do tell me. 
> 
> Updates will be on Tuesdays and Fridays every week.

Pain

That's what Tim feels when he comes to. All consuming pain.   
His abdomen feels like it's on fire. His head feels like someone is taking an ice pick to it. He can feel his heartbeat in his eyes.   
But he can't remember what caused the pain.   
Can't remember why he's in pain at all.   
Doesn't think he wants to. 

But something insists. Remember. 

Kon dead. Bart dead. Steph fake dead. Bruce dead. Wait. Not dead. But none of that explains the pain. 

Stop. 

Take it one step at a time.   
Bruce isn't dead. Dick didn't believe him. No-one did. Searching. Assassins. Ra's. Z. Owens. Pru. The cave. The symbol. The feeling of relief and happiness and Bliss.   
Blood. A sword in Z's back. Assassin. Owens and Pru dead. Widower.   
It all pieces together forming an image Tim would honestly rather ignore. But Tim doesn't ignore things. No, Robin doesn't ignore things. Tim is no longer Robin. 

Red Robin doesn't ignore things. 

So Tim opens his eyes and looks around. Sand slips from between his fingers as he twitches, body reacting to the pain in his abdomen without his permission. The pain intensifies when Tim pushes himself up onto his forearms, leveraging himself up slowly as he attempts to coerce his lungs into breathing just a little longer. 

There's something laying there. Not far from him. Two somethings actually. The two somethings have clothes. The two somethings have faces. 

Owens. And Pru. 

Tim stumbled toward them, dropping down in his knees and ignoring the agony that rips through him as he takes their pulses.   
Owens is dead. But Pru isn't.   
She turned on her side to prevent drowning in her own blood. Smart. 

Tim reaches under her and leverages both of their weights up. Slowly. Ever so slowly. As agony rips through his side, attempting to drag him down.   
Then, Tim manages to get his feet under him, pushing Pru's weight over his shoulder as she startles awake, attempting to scream as she struggles. She only makes a vague wheezing sound and her struggles are weak. 

They keep moving. 

Tim's feet stay under him, but only with effort. He has to think about the placement of every single step. His breathing laboured even though he shouldn't even be winded at this point. He's walked farther than this. He's ran farther than this. But with every step, blood clots the sand under his feet. 

The car didn't look this far away when he started walking. And yet, Tim feels like he's been walking for days. Pru's laboured, choking breathing at his ear certainly doesn't help. But it does give Tim determination. It pushes his feet forward faster, even as the edges of his vision go hazy and grey. He ignores it, along with the prickling of his neck as blood drip, drip, drips down his side. 

He makes it to the car and places Pru in the passenger side. Walks over to the driver's side. Starts the car. Only for it to fail. 

The battery is fried. 

But Tim won't give up. Can't. He's Red Robin. He won't let Pru die like this. Not if he can do anything to help it.   
So Tim clenches his teeth, pushing himself up out of the seat and ignores the feeling of his insides shifting. He steps out onto the sand of the desert and refuses to acknowledge the blood dripping down his side or the way he can't feel his fingertips. He stumbles around the car, falling flat on his face halfway there and he still keeps going, clawing at the sand and trying to raise himself up. Because that's what he does. What he's always done.   
But he can't. His body will physically not allow him. He can't feel his fingers anymore. His toes are numb in a way that he knows is bad. His eyes droop without his brain's permission and he isn't even sure he can feel himself bite into his own lip. 

His vision is hazy and grey. The world is quiet. It's peaceful. 

But Tim can't stop, no matter how his side pains or how loud his heartbeat has become. He needs to get Pru to safety. Has to get her help.   
He may not survive this. But she will. 

And even though he's terrified. He refuses to let anyone die alone. 

Silence encompasses him as he continues to pant, breathing still. But he can’t move, can barely see. Can’t feel his body.   
He can’t do anything.   
But he has to try.

Then, a sound. A voice.

"You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern corps" 

What?   
A green glow, bright in its eeriness. Just visible through the fog that his vision has become.   
The voice reminds him of something. Or not the voice. The words. He knows those words. He can trust those words.   
Tim sees the glow move, dropping down and then sliding toward Tim as it settles onto the finger Tim can no longer feel. And with a rush of adrenaline, Tim comes to slightly more. Only enough to think.

A power ring. 

A green lantern power ring is settled onto his finger. It's still glowing, almost in sync with his heartbeat, like it's monitoring his health. Like it's evaluating when it should move on. 

"Heart rate low. Blood pressure low. Assistance requested" the voice says again, as Tim struggles to digest the concept. 

And as Tim hazily sees 2 blobs of green float down towards him, darkness overwhelms his senses as everything goes soft and fuzzy. But Tim has enough time for a last thought.   
Why? Why would a green lantern ring choose a dying ex-Robin?


	2. Stay awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wakes up and the Justice League suffer for it

Tim’s second time waking up is almost as painful as his first, head pounding behind his eyes as light tries to pierce his cornea.   
He can feel his skin stretching around stitches on his side, pulling against the strain of skin and muscle.   
He can feel his heartbeat in his fingers. Fingertips swelling slightly with every steady beat. 

Tim can’t remember why that’s important. 

He’s warm. He feels safe. He’s comfortable and something tells him that he’s much better off at the moment than he’s supposed to be.   
“His suit is different”  
“So? So was mine”  
“Yes, because you designed yours”  
“Maybe he did the same”  
“In his state? Unlikely”

The sounds of an argument reach his ears, pulling him slowly from the black inky darkness that feels so safe and warm. Drawing him back to the surface. And meanwhile, drawing him back into the pain.   
The pain starts in his side, sharp and never-ending, spreading outwards in a throbbing pulse. 

The pain helps. It wakes him up, reminds him of what happened.   
Pru. Owens. Z. Widower. A blade to his abdomen. 

The ring. 

“He seems to be stabilizing. His heart-rate is higher and his Blood Pressure is coming back up” one voice says, presumably checking Tim’s vitals after the attack.   
“He better be. He just joined. He doesn’t get to die yet”  
“Neither he, nor we have any say in that, Kyle”  
“I know John, I know” a second voice says, sounding weary. 

Names. Kyle and John. Tim knows those names. Kyle Rayner, previous white lantern, current green lantern, painter, worked with Jason for a time. John Stewart, green lantern, one of the first, did not get along well with Hal Jordan at first, ex-military.   
Green lanterns.   
Just like he is now. 

Fuck. No. Tim can’t be a lantern. He’s a bat. Bats don’t have powers. They have tricks and tools. Bats aren’t metas.   
He especially can’t be a green lantern. Bruce hates Hal. Hates him.   
Wait.   
Bruce. 

Tim sits up abruptly, eyes wide, clenching his teeth around a scream as the skin around the wound pulls at the stitches, can feel at least one tear free from his sudden action. But Tim does not care. He needs to send the proof through to the Justice league. Needs to save Bruce. Because no-one else will.   
“Woah there kid. You need to stay down. You had one hell of a hit and you need to recover” John says, resting a hand on Tim’s shoulder to try and keep him down. Tim resists the urge to slam an elbow into the guy’s throat. His eyes look sincere. He isn’t the enemy.  
“Batman. Need to find Batman. Need to give the proof to the league” Tim huffs out, voice strained with pain as air burns down his throat. Trying to explain to them.  
“Kid? Batman’s dead” Kyle says and this time, Tim can’t help himself from responding. 

Tim grabs John’s wrist in his hand, twisting and squeezing the bones of his wrist together just shy of breaking it. Then uses that hold to throw John straight into Kyle’s legs, using the momentum to pull himself to his feet and fall into a fighting position. Raising his hands in front of his chest and widening his stance. Ignoring the pain. 

His hands look different. Clad in white gloves instead of black. They curl the same though, padding strong as Tim readies himself for a fight. Tim doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the green slow encasing his hands, brushing it off as a later- Tim problem.   
“Holy Hell kid. What are you doing?” Kyle asks as he struggles to untangle himself from John’s limbs.   
“I need to find Batman and you aren’t gonna stop me” Tim says, raising his chin in defiance as Kyle and John finally stand, facing Tim with open hands and placating gestures.   
“Kid, I told you – “ Kyle starts, only to be interrupted by John as something clears in his eyes “You’re Robin” he says, sounding a strange mixture between pity and awe. All it does is draw a vicious smile to Tim’s lips.   
“Not anymore. I’m Red Robin. Now how do I get the information to the Justice league on how to find Batman?” Tim demands, not willing to give a single inch on the topic. 

The two lanterns look at each other briefly, sharing a look as Tim holds strong. He won’t give. He needs to find Bruce. Needs to save him. Even if the league does think he’s insane.   
“We’ll send it along for review” John eventually voices, carefully diplomatic as he holds out his hand to take the drive Tim has in his utility belt. That he apparently still has. Huh.   
“No. I want to be there when you give it to them. I deserve that, at least” Tim says firmly, meeting firth Kyle’s eyes, then John’s before he pulls out the USB drive with sorted files, videos, pictures and documents of Tim’s proof. Proof that Bruce is alive, trapped somewhere in the time stream. But also, the drive contains predictions on where Bruce will be, when he will be and how to get him out. It’s what Tim almost gave his life for. What his team gave their lives for.   
Pru. Pru was alive last he saw. He’ll have to ask after her after this is sorted. 

Kyle and John hesitate, eyes drawn to the fierce green glow around him and the spreading red patch on his abdomen.   
“Fine. We will contact the league from the main communications room” John says, relaxing his stance and starting to walk. Kyle observes Tim for a moment before he starts to follow. Tim once again pushes away the instinct to take advantage of their turned backs. After all, he isn’t Robin anymore.   
Instead, Tim follows as they pass multiple aliens in green lantern gear, heading in a direction they seem to know well. 

“Sit down before you fall down” Kyle recommends as they come to a room. In the center is a large screen, around it are multiple chairs. Tim sits, only because he knows he can’t stay standing for much longer.   
“John. Good to hear from you again, my friend” Diana’s voice says as her image, along with half of the league appears on the screen. Of course, Tim is in immediate view. But he has no doubt that he looks different now, knows he has to make sure they know it’s him. Has to make them listen.   
“Diana. It’s Red Robin, Tim Drake. I have proof that Bruce is stuck in the timeline, predictions for where and when he will be as well as a strategy for saving him” Tim says, standing and stepping forward with the drive in his hand before he plugs it in “I am uploading the data now”. 

A few members of the league look at him with pity, some with hesitance, as if Tim has lost his mind. But he hasn’t. And he knows that for a fact.   
Clark is the first to open his mouth before Tim cuts him off “Shut up. You brought his body to us, we know. And I know that you all believe he’s dead. But you know what? None of you are detectives. None of you have searched the world. None of you found his hints. None of you even looked!  
You know what you did do though? You tossed a kid out on his ass to go off around the world, with most of his support condemning him. I mean, even if I had had a mental break, is this how you treat kids with grief? Ha. No, instead you let a child almost die to save his own father because I knew you wouldn’t save him alone” Tim lectures, eyes hard behind his mask and voice cold enough to freeze over hell. 

Clark flinches at that, eyes falling to the blood seeping through Tim’s suit as the rest of the league freeze.   
“Now. On that screen is the timeline of Batman sightings, along with additional proof that it is actually Batman. Surviving DNA evidence has been tested, along with accounts of the man they saw. You’ll notice that the sightings have a theme. The majority of them have some sort of connection to the Wayne name, including the account of the cult who almost murdered someone called “Bruce Wayne”. Now. There are also cryptographs and deciphered codes, along with the notes that I used to decode them” Tim explains, finally stripping his eyes away from the screen to look down, thinking if he really wants to say it.   
Fuck it, he decides, looking back up to meet the horrified eyes of Clark and Wally “Kon and Bart would be disappointed” he emphasizes finally before turning the transmission off, using the same button that Tim had see John use to turn the machine on. 

Then. Silence. 

“Well. That was certainly a display of willpower” a voice says from the door, Tim turning to see an alien that Tim had seen once or twice, named Kilowog.   
“Thanks” is all Tim says before he allows his feet to slip from under him, blood loss working with the adrenaline crash to drag him back under.


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is a terrifying lantern. Even when injured.

“He threw John at me like he weighed nothing!” a voice whines, grating on Tim’s ears as his hearing floats in from the clutches of unconsciousness.   
“He’s Robin” John points out reasonably, voice laced with a quiet hint of amusement.   
“Red Robin” Tim protests. Because he isn’t Robin anymore. Damian’s Robin now. Damian is Dick’s Robin. 

Batman. Bruce. 

“The JLA? Did they look into the research I gave them?” Tim asks, not bothering to sit up when his stomach feels like there’s a hot coal drilling its way through his body.   
“Yeah. They’re looking into it” Kyle confirms.   
Tim’s eyes narrow and he stares at Kyle for a moment before asking “And you aren’t lying to me so that I don’t beat your asses again?”   
Kyle just gives Tim a cautious, wary glance before laughter erupts from the foot of Tim’s bed. Kilowog, not bothering to hide his amusement. 

“No. They really are looking into it. However, it might take them a while. Maybe a bit longer since Superman and Flash both looked like you had wrung their souls from their bodies”  
“They deserved it” is all Tim says to the hint of reproach in Kyle’s voice. 

“No matter. If they deserved it or not, your information has been delivered and is being acted upon. Rest now” John says as he takes a step closer to the bed Tim recognises is now a hospital bed.   
To be fair, Tim shouldn’t have been walking with his stitches. Or fighting, not that there was much of a Fight.   
“You tore your stitches and passed out from blood-loss” Kyle says, presumably reading the question on Tim’s expression as Tim glares down at his own abdomen.   
“We were also forced to remove your spleen the first time you were injured. By the time we found you in the desert, the spleen had already taken too much damage to be repaired” John says, not flinching when Tim’s head shoots up.   
“And you didn’t tell me this before, why?!”  
“Would you have listened to us?”

No. Tim knows he wouldn’t have listened and even if he had, it wouldn’t have changed his course of action.   
“Where are we anyway?” Tim asks sulkily, glancing every which way and taking in the room around him as well as the medical equipment.   
“We are on Oa. When Kyle and John found you on earth, they were unsure of your identity and decided that bringing you here was the best option” Kilowog explains, giving Tim a searching, curious look. 

Right. Widower. 

Wait. Pru was gonna kill him.   
“Where’s Pru?” Tim asks, frantically lifting his eyes to meet John’s, pushing himself up on one arm to look at him better before Kyle pushes him back down.   
“The woman who was with you? The one in the car? Kyle escorted her through to the nearest hospital for treatment” John says a moment later and Tim relaxes against the covers. 

Pru would still kill him for disappearing. But she wouldn’t kill him once for leaving her and then another time for disappearing.   
“Strong lady. Tried to knock out my teeth while I was carrying her” Kyle says with a wince.   
And yeah. That’s Pru. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Tim asks after a moment of silence, staring down at his new white gloves, a faint glow of green around them.   
“We train you. Training will begin as soon as that wound is healed enough” Kilowog says.   
“Around 2 or 3 weeks” John says diplomatically. 

“And training means….?” Tim trails off, hoping one of them would explain the training process. After all, Bruce had sent him away to train when he just started out as Robin.   
They all give him blank stares and Tim sighs.   
“How long will training take? Who will be my trainer? Will the training include weapons? Will I be training with other recruits?” Tim asks, finally just laying out the most important questions when they look like they have no idea what Tim’s talking about. 

“I will be your trainer. The only weapon will be your ring. You are, for the moment, the only new recruit. Training takes as long as you need it to take” Kilowog answers with a shrug, as if the questions are unimportant.   
“What do you means as long as I need it to take?” Tim demands.   
“Some people take to the rings easier than others. Some people need to be introduced to the concept of the green lanterns. Every person’s need and training is different. The training will last as long as it needs to” Kilowog explains. 

Tim nods slowly, absorbing the information.

He’d rest. Train. Learn everything new. Maybe pick up a new name. Reinvent himself entirely.   
But.   
Would he stay?

Bats don’t have powers. Tim is a meta now. A lantern. Sure, he could just take off the ring, but does he want to?   
Tim isn’t Robin anymore. And Red Robin was Jason’s.   
Is Tim even a Bat anymore?   
He’d worked with Ra’s. He’d done things that he would never have done as Robin. He hadn’t broken the Rule. But he’d come close. 

On the other hand, wouldn’t it be nice to be chosen for once?   
Bruce hadn’t chosen him, Tim had just forced his way into the Robin role without Bruce’s permission. Jason had tried to kill Tim, more than once. Dick had chosen Damian. And Damian had tried to kill Tim too.   
None of them had chosen him. 

But this ring. This ring on his finger, had chosen him. Even when he was broken and bleeding and dying, this ring had deemed him worthy. 

Maybe he could stay. Be selfish for once and allow himself to be chosen.   
He didn’t even have to tell anybody. They hadn’t seen him in months. And the League hadn’t looked like they knew once Tim called.   
Maybe just this once, fate would let him be happy. 

Decided, Tim lowered down his head to the pillow, allowing his body to go lax, the ring on his finger humming as Tim thought.   
Rest. Recuperate. Learn. 

Noticing that Tim is alone in his room, he smiles. 

“Teach me everything” Tim demands and then goes quiet when information, old and new and ancient floods his mind. Everything the ring knows pouring out into the space of the room as Tim absorbs all of it. Just like he always had. 

Limits. Rules. Weaknesses and strengths. 

All of it at the tips of Tim’s fingers, as something created by the first beings in creation, tells him everything about everything in the world.


	4. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's first training session with Kilowog

The entire process had taken time, with minimal visitors and little to distinguish the days.   
From the beginning, when the ring was created, to now, everything in between and current poured out of the ring.   
Everything important, everything unimportant, just everything.   
Tim filtered through it as he went, sorting important information from the rest as he laid there on the hospital bed, still and not moving. Waiting for his wound to heal, waiting for his ring to finish. 

“Current owner, Tim Drake. Vital signs steady, nutrients low” the ring finally says, concluding with its history as Tim breathes. The sting in his abdomen had lessened as the days went on, skin healing as tissue knit itself back together. Tim honestly isn’t sure how long it’s been.   
It doesn’t matter. 

Breathing, Tim sits up and smiles when he can’t feel the strain of skin against stitches.   
“Must have been longer than I thought” Tim comments, peeling back his suit to get a look at what was once a gaping hole in his side. It’s been healed over almost entirely, skin still pink and tender around the wound but no longer a threat of tearing open.   
Either the lanterns have a way of speeding up healing, or Tim has been out of it for longer than he’d thought. 

Only one way to find out. 

Tim swings his legs over the side of the bed, white combat boots touching the floor. There’s only a mild tinge as Tim forces his body up and off the bed, muscles protesting at the sudden movement after so long of inaction. But there’s no tearing of thread through skin so Tim counts it as a win.   
Step. Step. Step.   
Tim makes it all the way to the door before he has to rest, legs shaking as an aftereffect of blood loss. 

“Woah, kid. What are you doing up?” Kyle asks as he appears in front of Tim’s door between Tim’s blinks. Right, flight. Tim’s going to have to get used to that.   
“My wound is mostly healed and I am ready to start training” Tim says, meeting Kyle’s eyes with a smile before clearing his throat “But I’d prefer a shower first, if that’s an option”. Who knows how long its been since he’s had an actual shower.   
“Also, I am not a kid. I’m not that young” Tim protests as Kyle starts to lead him in the direction of what is hopefully a shower.   
“You are half my age. Kid” Kyle says and Tim glares. Yeah Kyle may be 30, but that doesn’t make Tim a kid. He’s almost 18. 

“Showers are through here. I’ll get John to come and talk sense to you about fighting while injured” Kyle says stubbornly before he turns and flies away.   
Tim huffs a breath and turns to the door, opening it and. Never has Tim been so glad to see a normal shower.   
The new suit has the same locks and traps that the Red Robin costume had, making it easy to remove without letting go of the ring. The green glow, however, stays affixed to his skin as he runs his fingers over the new bundle of scar tissue before he steps under the spray. 

Once he’s done, the suit assembles just as easily, made easier by the surprising lack of substance to the suit. It almost feels weightless now, even though the Red Robin suit had weighed a ton.   
Of course, the lack of cape might explain that.   
But who needs a bulletproof cape when you can make bulletproof constructs?

Either way, the suit resembles the Red Robin suit he was wearing before. A green tunic, with black tights, white gloves and white boots. But there are no bandoliers anymore, just a utility belt that blends with the green glow of the tunic. The cowl is also missing, replaced with a Robin-style green domino with white lenses. And, of course, the Green Lantern symbol glowing on his chest, outlined in black against the green glow. 

“Kyle said you were up” John’s voice says from the door, as he leans against the door-frame, watching Tim.   
“Yeah. Time to get up. Train. Get ready for a fight and all that” Tim says, a wistful smile on his lips as he remembers training for Robin.   
But John just gives him an aggrieved look “You are still injured. Recover some more before you step into the ring” he says and Tim almost laughs.   
“I’ve fought with the Clench. I dragged Pru to the car when I was bleeding out from my internal organs. I’ve fought Killer Croc and Joker and Harvey Dent. This is just training” Tim explains, slowly as he tries to make John understand. 

The lanterns, they see Tim as a child. An actual child. But Tim isn’t. Tim was Robin, then Red Robin. He hasn’t been a child since the Graysons fell. 

“If you are entirely sure” John eventually says, even though he still looks hesitant.   
Tim would disabuse them of that quickly. 

Tim was never the strongest in the family. No. Not when Jason and Bruce outweighed him by a ton. He wasn’t the deadliest either. That honour went to Cass. He wasn’t even the smartest.   
But what he did have, was spite and determination.

And that’s exactly what Tim had when he faced Kilowog in their first training fight. Kyle and John had long since abandoned him, left him to his own fate.   
That was fine. Tim didn’t need an audience.   
Not for this. 

“Constructs are exactly as strong as you will them to be”  
“The green lantern constructs have a weakness to the colour yellow as the colour is tied to the entity of fear”  
“The yellow impurity can be overcome by not feeling fear”  
“Constructs are easier to form if they are something you are familiar with or something you can vividly picture” 

These were all important things that the ring had taught him. Maybe not in those words but Tim was adept in reading between the lines and there’s always a lesson between the lines of a story.   
Now, all Tim had to do was put theoretical knowledge into practical action. 

That plan went out the window as soon as Kilowog threw an actual train at Tim. An actual, literal train.   
From there, Tim relied on instincts. Things he’d trained with as Robin and that he’d fought with as Red Robin. Training from Bruce and Lady Shiva and King Snake. Ra’s. Bruce. Dick. Barbara. Even Jason and Damian, as much as they never intended to train him.   
A flip here, a dodge there. Lunge. Retreat. Attack. 

Tim wasn’t thinking, really. Was responding to the onslaught of green items instinctively. At least until he saw Kilowog faltering to scream something.   
An opening.   
A batarang here, a smoke bomb there. And a well-placed hit from his staff.  
Tim was now face to face with Kilowog, as he blocks Tim’s staff with a shield he hadn’t had a moment before. 

But Kilowog has a smile on his face.   
“Impressive” he says as Tim backs up a step with a blink.   
He remembers throwing a batarang, but he can’t see any littering the floor or stuck in any of the walls. He remembers a smoke bomb and smoke but it wasn’t the usual grey.   
The staff in his hand is glowing green. 

He didn’t have any weapons when he stepped into the room. 

“It seems that you are familiar enough with these items to summon them at will, even without your full concentration” Kilowog says, stopping next to Tim to eye the utility belt on his waist.   
Tim pats the pockets, they’re empty.   
Reaching inside, Tim clenches his fingers and remembers the feeling of the sharp edge at his fingertips, the edges that have given him scars and callouses from years of cuts. He knows there will be a batarang in that pocket. It’s where he always keeps them.   
When he pulls his fingers out, there, in his hand is a glowing green batarang. 

“Huh” Tim says, a bit stunned as he flicks the sharp edge of the bat, sending it flailing into the wall with a Clang! Then, he starts thinking. Batarang in this pocket. Smoke pellets in this pocket. Wraps and dressings. Trackers. Explosives. Antidotes.   
As he reaches for each one, fingers flitting with knowing grips, he pulls out exactly what he needs. Exactly what he knew would be there.   
“Huh” Tim says finally, reaching out his hand and spinning his fingers just the way Shiva had taught him.   
A staff materializes in his hand, glowing green. 

“We might finish your training early” Kilowog says, eyes wide in surprise and not quite awe but contemplation.   
And Tim agrees. 

If he can summon any weapon he wants….

This is going to be fun.


End file.
